Demon's Kiss
by Psycho Hippie Number Five
Summary: I was used to this kind of thing, the blood, the guts, the gore. And didn't help that I'd been taught to follow the leader. I wasn't expecting to take my limits this far. AU, rated for gore, violence, detailed death, adult situations.
1. Prologue

Okay, to tell you the truth, I've been meaning to post this since 2006. Skinner is my first official fanfic character, who has gone through several revisions and has gained her part in the Big Three (now the Big Four with Morgue's induction), my group of my best written serial killers. She has spawned her own original stories and amatuer screenplay and is the most famous among my friends at school. At this point in the story Skinner is 19 and I have yet to decide if it will do a time-skip to when I usually write her (25). By the way, the mortician mentioned at the end of the prologue is Morgan DelRossi (see "The Art of Death"). If you recognize Skinner from a story on another account, that is my old one and is currently in possessed by my cousin, who has yet to take my stories down (I doubt she ever will). The title and the lyrics at the beginning of this are from a Blue Oyster Cult song. Now, let's move on, shall we?

**Disclaimer-** I own nothing you recognize.

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_It was one of those things you don't quite see  
__I guess I knew but didn't want to believe  
__A shine in her hair  
__And steel in her eyes  
__Only nineteen and impossibly wise_

The rain was pouring down heavily, hitting the battered Ford truck and producing heavy, tinny sounds. Young Jaqoline Blackguard stared dismally out of the windshield from the passenger's seat and watched the wipers slide back and forth in front of her. She glanced momentarily as her father, a burly man in his late 40s with graying hair and dog tags around his neck, before returning her attention back to the road. The farmhouse came into view and the truck clambered into the drive, jostling the two occupants around. The engine shut off and Skinner – as she was known to most people – pulled the hood of her black rain jacket over her head. The father and daughter pair ran blindly to up the steps of the house and pounded on the door. Skinner shifted her weight from foot to foot as if she had to pee. The door opened and the two of them stepped inside, shaking the rain off themselves.

"Jackie" - the woman cringed at the nickname - "How nice of you to come." She stiffened as the blond cowboy embraced her. "Hello, Mr. Blackguard. How have you been?"

The elder man grunted before answering, "Fine. Thanks for askin', Tex." Said man released Skinner in favor of holding her hand. "So, can we come in?"

"Oh, yes, please do." He smiled pleasantly and led them to the family room where the others were already gathered. It annoyed Skinner that Tex was so friendly, almost naïve, and that he was the very embodiment of a Southern gentleman. He was always so neat and proper and it practically made her sick to her stomach.

"Mr. Blackguard, Jaqoline," Luda May greeted. Skinner remained still, half hidden behind her father, and only inclined her head the slightest in salutation. "To what do we owe...the pleasure of your visit?" The young woman's eyes trailed up to her father's face.

"I'm going out of town for a little while," Mr. Blackguard explained and Skinner knew that little while could very well mean years. "So, I would like to entrust my daughter to you during my absence. Is...that alright?"

Luda May smiled, even if she did look a little displeased. "Of course." She regarded Skinner for a moment. "Hoyt, get Jaqoline's things out of the truck."

The sheriff stood. "Of course, Mama. Anything for a lady." He gave a wicked smile and Skinner watched his warily, ready to attack should her do anything unjust. Hoyt disappeared into the rain.

Mr. Blackguard cleared his throat, "Now, is our deal final?" He placed a hand on Skinner's shoulder and she jumped a bit before looking up at him. "Bye, Jack." She said nothing in return but her eyes followed him until he was out of view. The door opened and shut with a bang. She stared in its direction for a bit until the arrival of the sheriff disrupted her gaze.

"There you go," Hoyt said shortly, dropping the ragged suitcase beside her. Skinner looked at it for a moment and then looked up at him. "What?" She picked up the bag after shaking her head furiously.

"C'mon, dear," Luda May began, lightly grabbing Skinner's arm and leading her toward the stairs. "I'll show you to your room." The elderly woman opened a door on the second level and gestured for the girl to enter. She walked in cautiously, subtly raising a brow at the pink walls and overall "girly" appearance. "I'll leave you to unpack," the woman said before shutting the door behind her. Skinner laid her suitcase on the bed and pulled open one of the drawers of the white bureau. She filed her clothes away automatically – summer stuff, winter stuff, night stuff- and tucked the suitcase into the closet, preferring to save that space for nicer things she didn't want to get wrinkled.

Skinner frowned as she settled on the pink bedding, hanging her raincoat off the bedpost to dry. Her eyes wandered over the pink and white décor before settling on a child's tea table. A white tea set was arranged on it, the gold accents dulled with age. She slid off the bed and crawled over to it, picking up one of the porcelain cups and wiping the dust off with her fingers. There was a brief knock at the door and Tex entered. Skinner stared up at him blankly.

"Hey, Jackie," he greeted, settling next to her on the hardwood floor. "Whatcha doin'?" She held out the cup and arched a brow. "Oh, that." He draped an arm over her shoulders before continuing. "Ma always wanted a daughter, but all she had were sons. We made this room in case, but when 'that' happened and then she died, it sort of became useless. No one's touched it, not even Luda May. And now you're here!" His voice became cheery and he gripped her in an impossible tight hug. "Little sister. That's so cute!" Skinner's eyes rolled. If anything, she'd come to the decision that she was his romantic interest and Alfredo and Hoyt's sexual fantasy. She slapped her palm against his forehead and he released her with a chuckle. "Alright, I'll leave you alone." He left and Skinner laid the cup back on the table.

Skinner contemplated for a moment. Twelve years ago she'd been in her first taxidermy contest, a few years later had earned her state-wide reputation, she'd had a time in her life as a mortician's assistant, and now this. Was this the way it was, slipping down the rung of horror? Living with a family of homicidal cannibals – what new culture shock was she going to experience now? They used to be just family friends that she saw on business trips with her father, with whom she sat in the yard and tossed a ball around or fixed a car or some other mundane thing. She'd become one of them, she knew it.

The problem was that she didn't care.


	2. Chapter 1

The next chapter. Sorry for the wait!

**Disclaimer-** I won nothing you recognize.

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Skinner stared out of her bedroom window, almost completely shrouded in darkness. The small lamp on her nightstand had been turned on the lowest setting and she could hear the hum of electricity over the muffled noises downstairs. Her eyes tracked even the slightest movements outside, watching for more relatives or even stray travelers Her head turned at a squeak on the stairs, which was followed by a brief knock and the door's protest as it opened. "Hey, Jackie. Whatcha doin' sittin' in the dark?" Tex asked, leaning against the doorjamb. Skinner shrugged in response. "Well, if you're interested, dinner's ready." He left, leaving the door open.

Skinner hesitated. She'd never really eaten any of their cooking. She knew that it contained something that tasted like beef but wasn't. When she was a child she'd pick around it, move it across her plate, cut it so that it looked eaten, or just cheek it. She'd overheard what it was at an early age and hadn't warmed up to the prospect that she would be eating another human. Then again, if she was going to be staying here for what may very well be years, she couldn't starve.

After the final thought that she'd just have to deal with it, Skinner made her downstairs, trying her best not to produce any creaks. She peered around the corner and accidentally ended up in Luda May's gaze. "So, you've decided to join us, dear," the elderly woman commented, gesturing for her to come over. "There's plenty." Skinner slipped into a chair at the end of the table and looked at the bowl of stew for a few moments. After her hesitation she picked up the spoon next to it.

The door opened and Skinner froze. "Well, it looks like Goldilocks wandered in and is sitting in my chair," Tinker commented, placing his hands on her shoulders. "When'd you get here, Skin?"

"She got here this morning," Tex answered happily. "She's staying with us for a bit."

"How long?" Tinker pulled up a spare chair and sat next to her. Skinner shrugged and pushed her food around.

"You know how Mr. Blackguard is," Tex pointed out. "She could be living here until she's thirty!"

Tinker chuckled and laid an arm over Skinner's shoulders. Fine by me." She smiled a tiny bit and returned her focus to the food. She hesitated, reminded herself that it might by true and she;d be leaving at about thirty, and ate. She almost felt like throwing up but she kept her expression blank. She ate slow, waiting until almost everyone had left before excusing herself to step outside.

Skinner welcomed the crisp air, dwelling on the fact that it was getting colder and that they might actually see snow this winter. She slid down onto one of the steps, clutching her stomach and clamping her eyes shut. Her happy thoughts about snow quickly turned to prayers for not throwing up. Behind her Alfredo emerged, murmuring to himself. He notice her and asked, "Hey, uh, you alright?" She looked at him and shook her head before laying her forehead on her knees. He sat down next to her. "Well, don't throw up on me." She smiled weakly before walking out into the yard and vomiting in the wet grass. She returned to him offering her a cigarette. "Thanks for your consideration, he commented as she took it. He stood shortly afterwards. "On bone patrol for stupid fuckface," he muttered to himself, walking off.

Skinner sat in the silence, slowly smoking the cigarette as she watched his truck disappear into the night. She leaned back against the railing, trying to focus on the acrid taste of the tobacco instead of her nausea and dizziness.

Her morals were interfering with her survival skills, that much was clear. It wasn't the actual meat that was making her sick, it was the though that she was eating another human. She'd been taught that it was fine – normal – to kill humans, but that eating them was going too far unless it was absolutely necessary. It wasn't absolutely necessary in this case; they could still go out and hunt forest animals. Then again, another thing she'd been taught was to be respectful of others' beliefs. It wasn't being respectful to refuse a homemade meal of perfectly good food.

_Deal with it,_ she told herself. _It's better than being dead._


	3. 2013 news

**WELL SHOOT SHOOT SHOOT IT'S 2013 AND I KNOW I'M FOOLING YOU ALL BY INCLUDING THIS NOTE BUT I INTEND TO ONE DAY SIT DOWN AND REVIEW THE THINGSES THAT MY FICS ARE BASED ON AND LOCK MYSELF IN A ROOM WITH THEM AND TRY TO GET BACK INTO THEM.**

At the moment, I feel promise for Art and Kiss, especially since the new TCM (if I ever get my butt to the theatre) will probably get me in to mood.


End file.
